


Did any time even pass?

by RussianLola



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Non-Explicit Sex, Self-Acceptance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-02-26 13:50:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18718339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianLola/pseuds/RussianLola
Summary: Standing up she is surprised to not feel any pain. After years on active duty even with serum coursing through her veins she developed some chronich pain in her knees and back. And now it feels like she is on a good kind of painkiller, because everything feels light and ethereal.- "Shouldn't hell be hotter than this?" she thinks.***In which Natasha learns how to accept her past and herself, and Clint just tries to hang on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was so devastated over how they treated my love, Natasha, in Endgame that I couldn't let it go and needed to do something about it. The idea how to make this new canon actually serve the character came to me and I hope I will be able to make something nice out if it.

Whenever she was down enough to think about it, she always thought that it would be fast. That her end will come to her in a battle, or during a non-anticipated assault where she would not be quick enough, not good enough...

It never occurred to her that it would ever happen like it did. She was fast enough and good enough to be able to beat Clint to it and go down before him, to save him. It happened because she was capable and not the other way around that she used to scrutinise over in the past.

She was wrong about the speed of it as well. It felt like she was moving in a time wrap, the fall seeming endless. As if she was sinking into an abyss full of jello, instead of falling off the cliff toward hard rock bed.

His eyes were hypnotizing her, full of pain and tears. She hated seeing him like this, would do anything she could to stop his pain. If she could it was the only thing that she would want to change, to not have the pain in his eyes the last thing she saw and him screaming her name the last thing she heard.

In this situation she couldn't lie to herself, she was fully content with her choice. Finally, she was able to pay back for all the pain and suffering that she brought to the world. She just had to believe that they would win and it would be not for nothing.

She was also able to repay her debt to him. And was happy that finally she opened her true feelings to him and to have learned that they were reciprocated.

She wanted to chuckle, that it was just like them to drag out something so easy till the point of no return. But she couldn't chuckle, couldn't move any part of her body, the weightlessness that she was caught in was ending. Her last thought before she felt the final brutal hit of the ground was: "You turn me into freaking sappy romantic, Barton".

 

****

 

He was surprised how understated the funeral for Tony was. If he ever spared some thought about it, he would have guessed that Tony would like to be celebrated going out the same way he lived, with a bang. At least he expected that there would be fireworks and a DJ making a crowd of devastated fans happy. “Guess you are not the only one changing in those 5 years”, he thought.

All the ends were neatly tied up and there was nothing to do but to go back to normal life. "Normal" he laughed sipping his beer. He was so happy to see his children back, excited that it felt like nothing happened for them. To see the sparks joy in their eyes and spend time with them was all he wanted during his fall from grace.

 But the truth was that he was caught in a limbo. Before the snap, the things with Laura were not going well. During the time he spend slowly dying inside his own head after the snap, he grew to resent the fact that he put himself in that situation. Resented Laura for being so “OK” with everything, for being so happy to have “play - pretend” happy perfect family. To be OK with having a husband who is never home enough physically and when he is there, most of the time not there mentally. Restening Nat for putting her hands up and staring him towards the things that she though he wanted, for running away, for playing "friends". Resenting the team for allowing him to say yes to house arrest, because of course he is a father, this is the best place for everybody in his family involved for him to be.

He resented this year spend away from Nat, pretending that he is not feeling like a bird with broken wings every time he sits on his porch at night and has their weekly call. Resented for her not being selfish enough.

At the end of every call he wished she would just say "I need you, come". He knew that he would dropped everything in a second... But she never says, and he never asks...

As time passed, he grew gloomier. Only thing that seem to bring him out of the dark place in his head, was when he was doing something with the kids. Teaching them skills that his own parents never thought him, marvelling at their little successes and talking through their failures. In all this time he never resented his kids.

With this passing time, it was harder for Laura to pretend that everything is perfect. Thought out all the time of their relationship they never spent so much uninterrupted time together and it was getting apparent for everybody and not only him. She started being increasingly more vocal. At first, he was thrilled, that how they always operated with Nat, you have a problem, you bring it up and not bury it in. That was at first…

The more they talked, the more they noticed that they just couldn't find a compromise. Their solutions were a lot of time a polar opposite of each other. She would get upset and he caught himself in the end just adopting her vision and shutting down his ideas. He never wanted to make her upset.

His solution was not ideal and Laura was not stupid, she didn't want him to just say yes to everything when it made him more and more unhappy. She tried to bring him out of this, but it was taking a toll on her. One argument was especially rough, throughout it she couldn't contain herself anymore and started screaming and slapped him. Kids got alarmed by the noise and came out on the kitchen.

At that moment he felt like the shittiest person in the world. Laura was crying surrounded by scared children and he just left out into the night to shoot. He shoots for hours, till he found himself sitting under the tree, that his target was attached to and watching the sunset. He was Lila come out of the house and approach him, sitting next. 

  
       - "I am sorry, it has nothing to do with you guys. Me and mom love all of you very very much".

She shook her head and told him that she knew. Remaining him of Nat so much he felt tears pricking at his eyes.  
  


       - "Dad I want you to be happy, like you used to be"

He always thought that he daughter was smarter than her years.

 

After that fight Laura brought up the discussion about divorce. It was a hard and heavy thing to discuss and decide on, they both agreed that there was no love anymore. The painful part was not only that love was not there, but also, they didn't have the mutual view of their common path. The only thing that they agreed on that they both wanted their kids to be happy. And how they were making a shitty job out if it. Lila frequently cried at night and Cooper was turning progressively quieter from day to day. It was killing him, he never wanted his kids to be unhappy in their family home.

When the needed documents for divorce were arranged, he called Nat, needed to share this with her, to ground himself. But on the phone Nat sounded pissed, she was busy with tracking down Wanda and Vision. He shared the news quickly and heard the small smile in her voice when she assured him that as soon as she is done, she would look into what they can do with house arrest. He dropped the call and for the first time in a long time he took a deep breath and felt content.

Laura and him decided to make a family picnic to break it down to the kids... The picnic was interrupted in the middle, no news were shared and no call from Nat happened... at least not the call he was expecting.

And now he was sitting in the house that for some miracle stood untouched after 5 years disuse. After a long week of cleaning and making sure that all the appliances were working. Drinking a beer that also for some reason wasn't stolen from his basement, ignoring that It was disgusting and for sure expired. Desperately trying to get some shut eye. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of himself letting go on Nat’s hand, blood pouring out of her split skull and hearing himself scream. Two times that he managed to sleep during this week were after passing out from exhaustion after the battle. And after Tony’s funeral when he flew his family home and got shit faced with Wanda, both of them trying to numb their pain with excess alcohol. Laura looked at him with such disappointment when he returned home.

Now he was nearing his third day without proper sleep and he couldn't find any other way than trying to blackout from disgusting expired beer.

 

****

 

It was warm. The air felt heavy and humid, she felt a drop roll down her left smile line. She hated it.

The mission in the amazon jungle came to mind, where she and Clint were tracking very low maintenance hippy drug cartel, that preferred to be one with the nature. Waking up in the mornings there she fest the same way, body moist and her clothes sticking to her. Clint love it there, acted like they were on some kind of nature trip vacation. Hunted and shot down partridges for them to eat. She remembers sitting shoulder to shoulder with him next to the fire and joking around. He used to smile so often then, she remembered kissing his stupid smart ass smile from his mouth to shut his shitty little jokes up… They used to kiss then…

She moves her hand to clean her face off the sticky layer of sweat when it hits her. She should be dead, the last thing she remembers is the pain of her hitting the ground… But wait no, not the pain, she went too fast in her thoughts. Actually, is was the pressure that she remembers.

She felt herself being afraid of opening her eyes and instead opens for trying to feel around her body to get some clues about what she is laying on. Under her is something soft and wet, she thinks that it must be something resembling moss.

When she finally gathers her strength to opens her eyes, she sees that everywhere her gaze reaches is fog.

Standing up she is surprised to not feel any pain. After years on active duty even with serum coursing through her veins she developed some chronich pain in her knees and back. And now it feels like she is on a good kind of painkiller, because everything feels light and ethereal. 

       - "Shouldn't hell be hotter than this?" she thinks.

The clothes she is wearing are different than what she was in during her fall. Now it was her favourite part of leggings and Clint old hoodie that she stole from him back when they still were more than friends. Her feet are bare.

        - "That means I’m totally dead them" - she chuckles - “Maybe it's my punishment, being alone with myself"

Her inability to do nothing wins over and she decides to pick a direction to walk in, just to see what this strange place has in store for her.

Everything that her gaze reaches is exactly the same, just fog and straight horizon line. She decides to go in the direction her legs were when she woke up, just to adhere to the basic survival instincts that were drilled into her since childhood.

She pulls up her mental block to stop any thoughts from popping into her head. She thinks that if this is really it, and she will have an eternity to spend alone in the moist place she will have loads of time to drive herself insane thinking about everything in her life. So, for now she focuses on walking an on cataloguing the feelings in her body, still very surprised with absence of any pain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha discovers a little more about the place she is in and starts to lose her control.  
> Clint is in pain and acting out. Laura wants to be a helpfull, good person.

Natasha tracks him down three months after the snap.

It was not one of his finest hours for sure, Clint  thinks that now he could understand Bruce a little better. All encompassing rage that filled him after he realised what happened, was uncontrollable. The first time he gave himself over to his rage was a few weeks later. He stumbled on a maximal security prison, that seemed to be abandoned by the authorities, when inmates overpowered the remaining guards. The world had more shit to deal with after the catastrophe than care about criminals, so they over looked the issue, letting imates escape and raid neighbouring village. He lost it after seeing them forcing themselves on a teenager. 

He kills them all, painting the prison walls with their blood. During this rage killing, not once a thought that he doesn't know who those people are or which crimes they commited to land them in jail, cross his mind. What he does could be better described with, hunting them. Waiting it out, taking them out one by one, playing with them. He gives himself over to the thrill of it.  He didn't remember the last time he was so happy, as when he executed that first rapist scumbag. When he thinks about it now, he doesnt even believe he was capable of doing something like that.

Natasha finds him a week after his first massacre. Whoever he turned into during his rage, she still knows his style, can recognize his handiwork.

 

She brakes into the room his was staying in. Not that it would be that hard to do, since he has taen up staying in a rundown holes in the wall, without proper security. He just doesnt care anymore.

Clint knew she was alive, one week after the snap. When he finally had a courage to call her. It was an impossibly hard thing to do, he was so afraid that there would be no answer, that she would also be gone. In his head he was refusing to accept that, even as a vague possibility. After she didn't pick up his first call he wept, were not able to bring himself to stop. He ended up sitting on the floor of his rented room for hours, looking at his wall with unfocused eyes.

After a few hours she texted back, his phone lighting up. He stared at it, somehow knowing immediately that the text was from her. It was just a string of coordinates with their own code for “I’m alright” mixed in.

Falling asleep that day he really entertained the idea of going to met her. But waking up he could not make himself do it. He was not strong enough. Couldn't look Natasha in the eye after resenting himself of not being there and for his horrific actions after.

It took him almost two weeks to compose himself enough to try calling her again. Natasha cried when she heard his voice. Cried, asked him to come, and it was that he was desperately wanting and waiting to hear from her for the last year. But he could not do it, couldn't not take this trust and sentiment from here. Pushing out "I am so sorry" he dropped the call, smashing the sim card afterwards. He knew he was not being kind to her. 

 

And now 3 months later, entering his ratty room, he saw her. Natashas back was turned to the door, while she observed the sunset though the small window. 

Even in the darkness of the room, only seeing her silhouette framed buy the sunset light he immediately knew it was her.  
  


     - "I am tired of playing games with you, Clint" - she said, turning towards him.  
  


Natashas face and figure looked misplaced. She has lost a lot of weight and looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. But her eyes, her eyes were shining with anger. She was so pissed she could have been burning. 

He wanted to say that he was sorry, sorry for everything before, after, and during. For not being there for her. But he couldn't make himself open his mouth, he dropped his weapons and lifted his hands, they were cowered in drying blood that was flaking off him. She followed his movement with her eyes and if she was the one named after a hawk.

He made a careful small step towards her. Her eyes were not leaving his face.  
  


     - “Please, just…” - He didn't know what he was begging her for. He just wanted to wipe that look of pain from her face. For just a moment stop all the misery in them both.  
  


She signed, dropped her shoulders and walked past him toward a small dirty kitchenette.  
  


     -" Wash the filth from you, I will look for something to eat. You look worse than after crawling through that sewage system in Granada."  
  


Her voice was high, sparkling with humour and so fake his teeth started to pain. Clint hated himself in that moment, hated that pushing Natasha to the point that she would think that he would prefer her to act a role. He hated himself for it too, but also knew that this is the only way he knew how to do this. To pretend it was them having some downtime after just another mission. No more, no less.  
  


     -" Right back at ya, doll. If i am from the sewers, then you must have worked some anorexic fetishist? Soon I will be able to see the sun shining right through you. Get us something nice and fat."  
  


Natashas gaze pierced his. Clint praied that she would not play in this twisted game with him, if she herself wouldn't want it. It was always their hard line, to not do something only because she thought that he would want it. Even with everything that layed unspoken between them, he trusted her not to cross it. 

But he did cross a line with their "friendship". He was driving it in hard, referencing a nickname she used to flip out from. The type of jobs that she used to take. And the food issues that she had so masterfully masked during the time when they were together before. He was too blunt and raw, but still continued making up excuses for himself. He was tired and in pain so he didn't let his mind stop him before the words left his mouth. 

He could see Natasha is weighting his words in her head, deciding how she wants to proceed. She broke off the eye contact and turned away to busy herself with opening and inspecting the fridge, but of course there was nothing in it.  
  


     -" Is there a room service or anything is this dump? Wouldn't want to starve you."  
  


She didn't make up her mind yet, instead balancing on the tight rope, deciding to which side she wants to fall to. He could give her time, god know she had given him plenty. He informed her of a nice lady managing the downstairs diner and left the room to take a shower. He heard her gently closings the door behind herself and wondered if she would even come back.  
  


 

***

 

Natasha feels like she was walking for hours hoping for the scenery to change, but no matter how much time has passed, everything remained the same. She had a feeling as if she was trapped in a giant hamster wheel. There was no tiredness, no wind to blow some cold on to her. She was in a warm, humid vacuum with no wind and no sound apart from her own steps. She was pusshing down the terrifying feeling, that she would be forever trapped in this endless fog, alone with her thoughts. 

It was getting harder and harder to block her thoughts, trying to turn herself into a ball of survival. Looking around to try to spot any change in the scenery, straining her ears to hear at list some sound in the distance. 

 She got lost in trying to track time she spent here. She couldn't not resist her thoughts anymore. It was just her and her brain.  
  


     - _"This is what you get, the eternity with yourself. Best punishment I can imagine for sure"_  - she caught her talking to herself, growing angry at this perceived weakness.  
  


     - _"Maybe it's best to start receding something? It used to always keep my mind occupied"_   - There was a lot of isolation trainings when she was younger. And she never remembers being affected by them so fast.  
  


     - _"What was the last book I read? Lets try reciding it by memeory"_ Natasha focussed herself with the thought of all the books she could remeber reading lately. Thruth be told, the oversight role, while strestfull, left her with a lot of personal time, that she mostly used for reading and catching up on all the ballet skills that she lost during years of having no time for practicing it.

And doing god knows what with Clint...

She remembers Steve catching her weeping after they found last Clint location. She feels so stupid about it right now. What they had during those 5 years was weird, unorthodox and probably not benefiting her mental state. 

But at list they had it. In those rare moments when they dropped everything, met, and lost themselfs in their weird role-play, they were both happy. They were bandaging each other’s pain, and ripping off those bandages together with dried blood and lymphatic liquid that seeped through them, when they separated.  
  


     - " It's because you wanted to torture him. He gave you the rains and you steered you both into the abyss." - a calm low voice echoed around her, or was it in her head?  - " Is he even better now with his family, since you threw him to them after you were done playing with your food, and decided that you don't want to eat it after all?"  
  


All of a sudden, she was not warm and comfortable anymore in this weird place. Chill ran up her back and she felt her skin prickle with goose bumps.  
  


     - "No that's not how it was… I didn't…. I don't want to hurt him" - there was a quick thought thta passed through her head, that maybe she is drugged since she is audibly answering a voice inside of her own head.  
  
  
     - "Then tell me about it"

 

***

 

Laura comes down to find him after almost an hour of him staring into the distance on the porch, nursing his third bottle of beer. Clint felt that he was getting a food posoning instead of getting a buzz.

She sat down next to him and for a while they just sat side to side, not saying anything, it felt good. Laura turns head to look at his face, but Clint doesn't want to have eye contact.  
  


     - " I don't even know how to talk to you" - she says, sadly - "I feel like I fell out from a horrible time of your life. We were not close before, and now I feel like I don't even know you."  
  


He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and taking another drag of his beer.  
  


     -  "But I do want to help you. I’m still here you know. I don't want you to be alone in this"  
  


He turned to face her. His thoughts were getting muddled, exhaustion and alcohol catching up on him. Looking at her face, he was just seeing the pity and sadness for him. He hated it.  
  


     - "Laura, I don't know what to tell you… , there is nothing you can dooooo" - he sang the last part. Knowing he should feel shitty for mocking her, just for trying to help, but not being able to stop. 

She signed.  
  


     - "Being an asshole won't make this easier for you" - he lifted his eyebrow at her mockingly. Laura winced  and stood up.  
  


     - "You don't like yourself when you drink. You will get it when you find the Clint I know again." - She said and walked back to the house opening the front door.

 

     - "Nat wouldn’t like you to be like this you know" - she said closings the door behind herself.  
  


He wanted to scream back _"You don't have any idea who she really was and what she wanted "_  , but stopped himself. _"You been shitty enough, it's the mother of your children"._  
  


He felt his eyes dropping shut. He stood up to dispose of the bottle and make his way to the living room couch.

When the restless sleep finally took him, his last thought was _"Did I even know what Natasha wanted?"_

 


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha picked up some greasy American food from the lady in the diner and dropped it off at Clint’s place. After hearing that he still was in the shower, she hurriedly left the room to think. It was very confusing, usually she could plan her actions eight steps in advance, but now she didn't know how she wanted to proceed.

 

She missed him for a long time, missed his so much she could feel it in her bones when she got to the state of thinking about it. Usually she just ignored those thoughts and pushed them into a dark corner of her mind that she, as a rule, didn’t enter. And now when she needed to make a decision those carefully barricaded thoughts were crawling out.

 

Truth be told, Natasha was afraid, not afraid of what his actions turned him into, but of what would happen if she would give in and let her wants crawl out. Thing were plummeting. His hints, though transparent to anybody else, were a full body blows for her. Clint wanted to escape, to have her play out a fantasy of their own life, and she certainly could do it.

 

It was a hard thing to decide whether is was a correct thing to do, couldn't separate her own wants from what was right. It was very hard after so many years of pretending not to want anything…. Not to want him, need him in a bigger capacity then it had been.

 

The way Natasha saw it, she was on a mission. She needed to make things right, to correct the snap or at list to hold on and support everything that was left, not letting the world to sink further into darkness and implode on itself from this enormous loss. And it was never advisable to stop and pay with your own life in the middle of the mission. This is how she was taught and this is how she knew how to live.

 

Now after the snap, she worked. She and Steve trying to come up with anything that could help. She refused to give up, she refused to even think about Clint after that first day when she twisted Steve’s arm to fly them out of Wakanda to US. And made a non-stop hectic drive to the farm.

 

All that and to find nothing… Well not nothing, she searched the house, after putting herself together from her breakdown when she understood that all of them disappeared. His favourite weapons were nowhere to be found. It only could mean, that he went of the grid and since he didn't tap into any of the established communication channels, he did not want to be found.

 

She could give him that, give him time and space. After she knew that he had survived, it was more than enough to keep going. Now, after everything relatively cooled down, she allowed herself to pull on this thread.

 

During her being lost in her thoughts she rounded the corner on a nearby petrol station. Leaving it with a bottle of Vodka in hand, she made up her mind.

She was tired and wanted to escape.

 

***

 

Dream Nat’s hair was moving in the wind, it kept naturally wild and free. She was smiling at Clint, reaching out to hold his hand.

 

    - "You like this on me" - Nat was smiling with open tooth wide smile. And it felt like the sun was shining on him.

 

She was referencing the simple pastel purple cotton dress she was wearing, very thin under hot summer sun. They were standing on a flat roof of a multi-story building. Clint was grilling burgers on the electric grill that he on, and Nat leaving her book forgotten of the lounge chair she was previously sitting on, went to look over the city scape.

 

    - "I would like it even better if it would be on my floor." - Clint answered her with a cheesy pickup line, just to see her roll her eyes on him. She indeed did just that and laughed.

 

He closed the lid on the grill and joined her next to the balustrade, Natasha faced him turning her back to the city.

 

    - "That's the plan."

 

She was so close he could smell the so familiar scent that was just her own. He cupped her cheek, bringing her face close and kissing her. She was smiling into the kiss, his chest getting tight with warm, happy feelings that were growing in there.

 

Clint's hand was sliding down from her face to her neck. A wild thought broke through a haze of happiness in his brain that it was happening not under his command. His fingers wrapped around Nat’s slender neck, he felt himself squeezing it at first gently, but then harder and harder.

 

Natasha broke the kiss and was looking at him with terror in her eyes.

 

    - "Clint, what…"

 

He was squeezing her neck even harder and bending her backwards over the railing. Dream Natasha started to grip his hand, digging her nails into it, but not doing all the other things that he knew she was capable off to get him to back off, and was just staring into his eyes.

 

    - "Do it" - he hears an icy cold voice, that used to come to him in nightmares so frequently - "Do it, you should be the one to do it to her. I told you that years ago. Death would suit her, she is already so pale, and now she turning pretty blue. I want you to squeeze her neck till the breaking point"

He was desperately trying to unclench his fingers, to move any part of his body, but felt himself helpless to stop, his vision turning blue at the edges, doing everything that the voice was whispering to him.

 

    - "And then you let loose, allow her to draw in her last breath when you push her over the edge." – the owner of the voice was so damn proud of himself, Clint could hear the satisfaction seeping through his words.

 

    - "Clint let me go!" – suddenly they were not on the sunny roof anymore. But back on the barren plant that took her away from him, on that god forsaken rocks edge. Natasha was not saying the words softly, like she actually did. She was choking them out, her eyes full of terror.

 

    - "Then you will drop her and her lovely skull should split in two. And you should stare at your handy work"

 

Suddenly Natasha was falling, dream scenes moving before his eyes like a snapped polaroid pictures. Her smiling and kissing him, to her cold laying on the bed rock with blood spill out of her head in that pretty purple dress.

 

    - "Good job, you were always so good for me" - he hears the voice say.

 

He wakes up drenched in sweat.

 

***

 

    - "When I was 10, I had my first kill. Should be a dramatic event, don't you think? But I don't even remember feeling remorseful. It was a very easy choice, either I kill this girl that my handlers are ordering me to kill and then I get to go back to my room. I can sleep, maybe I will get some more tasty food. Or I fail to do it and I will be punished. There was never a thought that I could refuse to do what they told me to do. I either succeeded or I fail. Such a Pavlovian response. I was in the Red Room for five years at that point, and it was in my early childhood. So easy to influence and train the free will out. "

 

    - "You say train the free will out. So, you agree that your actions under Red Room were not consensual?"

 

This hell, was getting progressively weirder. After Natasha was not able to restrict herself from talking out loud anymore. The Voice that was answering her was getting more and more apparent. Now she could sense it coming from everywhere around her. It vaguely reminded her of being in Stark Tower and talking to Jarvis.

 

    - "Does it really matter in the end? I did the deed. Me, with my hands and my knife. And I enjoyed the cake I got after that. It was a first cake I got ever since I was brought in."

 

    - "It matters if you think it matters." - the Voice answered calmly.

 

The Voice was really into digging into her past. When their conversation first started, she lost her nerve, thinking that her judgment day came. And it would be soon decided if she did bad or good. It wasn’t a riddle for her, she knew that people like her deserved, an endless burning in hell.

 

    - "That’s a very lazy analysis, don't you think? Very, first page google self-help article."

 

Now it was feeling less like a court case and more like a therapy. Natasha didn't know if she was necessarily into it. All her life she avoided therapy like a plague, getting out of mandated Shield sessions by stone face lying to her therapist. She didn't want any person digging though her brain. But knowing that she was alone, with the weird ethereal Voice, was getting her to participate. Either way she was dead, so there was not much choice of conversation partners.

 

    - "And you like to use your humour to get out of topics you don't like. Very impressive, but you know that."

 

Natasha beamed a thousand-dollar fake smile towards the sky.

 

    - "Thank you for thinking I am funny. I don't know why most people don't see that."

 

    - "Oh, sorry, I don't think you are funny. I am just analysing your defensive techniques."

 

Voice was getting too haughty for her liking. She diced to ignore it for time being. Unfolding her legs from the pretzel position that she was sitting in and going to her stretching routine. It felt amazing, even though she always liked stretching, now it felt a so much better without pain and skin pulling on her scars. It was a great time waster, she could occupy herself with something, while thinking through what she discussed with the Voice.

 

The Voice never started the conversation first, but was very fast to answer. It was sarcastic, and could see through every curve ball Natasha attempted to throw at it. She didn’t like it. Was always on the other side of similar conversations.

 

    - "My therapist would love take a class from you. But I guess you are good at this, not only by being smart. The ambiance definitely helps as well.” – Natasha says, while continuing to stretch.

 

    - "I am only here, because you need me here.”

 

An analytical part of Natasha brain shrieked at her, to pull on that thread, trick the Voice into spilling more of what it knew about this place. But she was so tired of looking for hidden agendas and fishing for information. When she actually thinks about it, she realises that it was nice, when she was talking to the Voice, without trying to play her little games. It was hard, and mentally tiring talking about the things she kept locked up for such a long time, but it still felt so nice to talk it through.

 

    - "This is hard for me, to talk about myself.” – she lays down on and lets her face be covered by a ticker fog that gathered next to the soft ground.

 

    - "Why is that?”

  
She shrugs.

 

    - "It was always easy to forget that I am a person as well. I always had a focus, a mission, or a goal during the training, that I needed to master. There was just a path to the goal. Everything else was secondary.” – Natasha closes her eyes, remembering herself breaking down from isolation trainings in Red Room, begging the handlers to give her something to do.

 

    - "After I came to SHIELD and they cleared me for living alone, I had troubles with sustaining my body. During Red Room there was never a need to think that I needed to eat or to shower, there were orders. I was never a part for the decision of when I wanted to eat, or to bath, or to go to sleep. I did those things when I was told to do them. And in SHIELD at first, they kept me restrained and caged, so the orders were there and I was comfortable. But when they released me to the world, Clint helped me or rather made sure that I get to my assigned apartment in the city and left. I was supposed to “decompress and think about my options” as my handler in SHIELD put it. You can guess it didn’t go over well. Clint came back three days later to check up on me with a giant pizza box, and only upon seeing it I realized that I actually didn’t eat anything while being alone, I didn’t even feel the hunger. It was a battle to overcome this block, and see that I need to take care of my body.”

 

    - "And how did you overcome it at the end?”

 

    - "The longer I was out of Red Room and the more time I spent with normal people, it got easier to see the things that were wrong with me” – she chuckled - "At first I just copied Clint.”

 

    - "It seems like he was always there for you”

 

Natasha felt a strong anxiety pull to rub her nose or move her arms and legs, to release some of the tension that she was acquiring in her body.

 

    - "He was… till I pushed him away”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life got a little busy I will try to finish this one up with out disappearing for so long.  
> The rating picks up. Warning for not explicit sexual content ahead.

After waking up from the blue tinted nightmare Clint was not able to fall back asleep again. Instead deciding to occupy himself with preparing a very, very early breakfast for the family. He always found cooking very therapeutic and it was always able to serve as a distraction from the bad thoughts that were running around in his brain.Yesterday he and the kids picked apples from the farms apple trees, there were right in season, ripe and very tasty. Laura was planning to make an apple pie in the morning. Clint whipped up the batter and started cleaning and cutting the apples. At some point he found himself distracted by the way the kitchen knife was slicing into the apple, easily splitting it apart. He wondered, how it would feel to be in the place of this apple. Would the pain of the split over take the agony he was in mentally.

Nat used to do stuff like this. In the beginning, when she just joined their side, she would do it a lot. Blatant self harm and punishment. He wasn’t even sure if she truly understood what she was doing. Nat acted that is was an absolutely normal thing, to over train to the point of passing out from exhaustion, after the mission that she declared herself not the preform flawlessly. She never really got over that part of it. 

 

This was the mildest punishment she gave herself. He still remembers when he found her making shallow cut on the thighs after they had a fight and he came to her room unannounced to patch things up with her.

Apple pieces in his hand fall down into the bowl, but he doesn’t stop the pressure on the knife continuing onto his palm. It stings, juices from the apple getting into a shallow cut. Her face in his mind, with her bloody thighs  _ “I wanted to forget that I disappointed you”. _

 

\- “Dad?!”

 

The knife falls on to the table and he attempts to hide his bloody hand in the kitchen towel. Lila came to the kitchen for a glass of water. She always liked drinking water in the night.

 

-“You thirsty? Let me get you a glass” 

 

Clint fumbled around the kitchen in an attempt to distract her from the scene she just witnessed, being mindful not to use his bad hand. 

 

-“Dad, are you ok? What are you doing?” 

 

Lila’s voice was at least an octave higher than regular and it was trembling hard. He suspected she was on the verge of tears.

 

He felt so shitty.

 

-“ Nothing, baby, couldn’t sleep and decided to make something nice for breakfasts to make your mommas life easier “

 

He faked a smile and winked at his daughter. Lila put down her glass of water and come close to him sitting on the chair and wrapped her arms around his neck hugging him.

 

-“Daddy, I want you to be ok. You are scaring me” - she whispered into his ear. 

 

Clint stomach dropped, he always seem to forget that she was not a little child anymore that he could easily distract. His daughter was extremely smart and saw straight to his core. He had never been so disappointed in himself and so proud of this daughter at the same time.

 

-“ I’m trying, my little bird. I just need some time. I’m sorry I scared you” 

 

They sat there for sometime, till Lila started yawning, and he went to put her to bed, promising to not do anything stupid anymore. And to have her wakes get to a delicious breakfast.

 

He returned to cooking, not letting his mind slip like that anymore and was sure in his decision. He needed to leave and put himself together. He didn’t want to see that fear in the eyes of his kids and hated the feeling that he was making their house not safe.

 

***

 

-”Listen, if you don't do this now, you will forever regret it” 

 

Clint was being ridiculous. Sitting on the floor of yet another rented hell hole that they decided to meet up in this time.   
He brought some nice tequila from his latest run to Mexico, the purpose of which he refused to discuss. He came back with a full sleeve tattoo and a shaved head, which she decided she would think was because he found a bargain tattoo master, and not that he infiltrated and ended the radical mexican gang and needed to blend in, as she knew from her keeping tabs on his activities.    
  


And now was inciting her to do a shot of it with the tabasco sauce that he lifted from the diner they were in before.

 

-” I saw them doing it. Looked like a lot of fun”

 

Natasha was stretched on the couch, looking at him with an amused smile. She was already nicely buzzed, as was enjoying herself in the moment. In the beginning their little escapes from reality worried her, she didn't think that it would be a correct thing to do.   
But a few hours of happy time in the well constructed bubble of denial was very satisfying. Even though, when she returned to reality is broke her down hard.

 

-” You know I can't really stomach spicy things”

 

Clint was already pouring the shots, in little shot glasses with Italy written on them, that they surprisingly found in the cupboard of this place. 

 

-” Bullshit, you can stomach anything, you were trained”

 

Natasha rolled her eyes, Clint lifted himself up from the floor that he was sitting in and joined her on the couch, leaning into her hard, passing over the shot.

 

-” Do we have to mix it in or something?”

 

She loved the feel of him next to her body like that, being pressed into a little hard. She gave up on her little teasing game and accepted the shot.

 

-” I think we just drink it like that. Come on, one, two, three..”

 

They drowned the shot together.

 

-”Well that tasted shitty” 

 

She exclaimed, Clint laughing hard, taking her shot glass to the coffee table and leaning back into her while still vibrating with laughter.

 

-”It's supposed to, Honey”   
  
-“You got the farmers tan on”. -

She commented, running her hand up his arm, moving his t-shirt material aside. 

 

-“Was a burn a first. Even peeled a little” 

 

He went along with her hand leaning into her, laying next on the couch. 

 

-“Mhmm. I seem to recall you boasting that you never burned”

 

Nat said thoughtfully, hand moving from shoulder into his head, enjoying the prickle of the hairs starting to grow out.

 

Their eyes lock

 

\- “I exaggerated” - Clint said on the exhale.

 

The meeting they had never fell into sex before. They used them for reconciliation, grounding each other. Truth be told, they both were not ready for that kind of wall lowering yet.  The last time they were together in that sense was more than 8 years ago, after Loki and before she decided that it would be better for him to be with somebody normal and broke it off.

 

There certainly were temptations over the years, they didn’t cross the line, but the layer of intimacy was always there. They were orbiting each other, and when those orbits collided, they spent a night wrapped in each other, just being close and feeling each other’s presence.

 

This time it felt different, the air between there felt charged. Clint hand runs up her shoulder cupping her face, bringing his forehead to rest on hers.

 

Through be told, Nat very rarely found herself wanting sexual contact with other people. Just couldn’t let herself relax enough to actually enjoy what was happening. And she had a rule not to do things that she doesn’t want to do in her personal life. With Him though it was different. The trust they developed over the years, even before they got together, made her head spin with want.

 

Clint twisted his face into her neck, nuzzling and breathing her in, that would usually make her uncomfortable if she didn’t take a shower upon arriving to the hotel. His hand left her face, setting on her waist bringing her closer.

 

He was different this meeting, she felt like something went wrong during his latest exploit, and since they committed not to talk about things, she decided to let this play out. Hoping he would get something that he needs out of it. Because she herself was ravenous for it, and in this well constructed “reality escape” bubble she could convince herself that it was not a bad thing to do.

 

Clint hummed into her neck, clutching her harder.

 

-“Can I do down on you?l

 

They didn’t even kiss yet, something was seriously wrong. Before he always love doing this to her, but now it felt like an atonement. They looked eyes again, he looked as if he needed to give something up, to beg for forgiveness. She knew that at this point she should have pressed, asked, distanced herself from him and gotten to the bottom of this, for them to safely move on, being on the same page as always. But she was tired, and selfish and burning for him harder than she remembered herself to be able to for a long time.

 

-“Yes”.

 

He was sitting up, slinging her shorts and underwear down her legs, leaving the oversized T-shirt she wore after her shower on.

He went straight to work forfeiting the teasing that he used to enjoy, moaning into her as if it was the thing that he was dreaming of for a long time.

She enjoyed her mind going completely blank, no never ending noise of  _ “not good enough, figure it out, solve it, your fault, break them” _ that her subconscious was full of, which took a long time to master turning the volume down, to stop the distraction.

 

Time apart seam to not dull his memory of the things she liked, and she felt herself spiraling to the finish faster than she anticipated.

 

When she came back to, she saw him resting his head in her tight looking intently at her face, with his eyes full of longing and an emotions she couldn’t read. Throwing all caution and care away, she reached for him which a whine, Clint submitting, rising and falling into her open arms.

Their lips finally met in a deep kiss. She noticed that her eyes were leaking, she didn’t know when it started, but her cheeks were completely drenched in tears.  _  “Not the most sexy thing you  could do” _ Natashas inner voice scolded herself.

 

-“ Sweetheart, please don’t” 

 

He whispers, whipping her cheeks with his thumbs. Leaning back into their kiss.

She pulled his pants down, feeling him hard against her. He shudders

 

-“No, it’s ok.Please, I need you” 

 

She couldn’t imagine Clint pulling away now, no doubt in his self punishing mindset.

He moaned and sinking into her, and them finally rocking together.  She feels out of this words, being together like this, melting into each other. Doesn’t remember anything better. Feeling that they left their physical bodies behind and are colliding with their souls instead.

 

Natasha thinks that she cried all the way through, at some point felling his own tears mixing in.

 

***

 

\- “I always was weirdly jealous of the lions. We liked to watch those nature documentaries with Clint when we were on leave. The lions would just spend almost all of their day with their partner and kids. Just laying in a big pile together, sleeping, enjoying the sun.”

 

\- “That does sound very pleasant“

 

Natasha hummed with agreement 

 

\-  “I didn't get to sleep much during my life. It was always hard to just let my mind go and relax when I was alone. I was so fascinated with it, imagining if I could see myself being the lioness in the situation. I think it was speaking to me because she always seemed to be so calm with her family. But still tracking every movement around, proving, bringing the food for her family, but also having enough strength to relax and just be with them.”

 

\- “You associated yourself with the animal because of its perceived calmness?”

 

\- “I think it was more wish than the association. I wished to be calm like that and to enjoy my life, but never got to have that.”

 

\-  “Why didn’t you.”

 

\- “I didn't allow myself to get that. I could... maybe not the kids... but the feeling of being content, but I didn't think that I deserved it.”

 

\- “Do you still think that now?”

 

At that Nat had to pause. It was strangely liberating having this conversation with the Voice. She for once didn’t restrict her thoughts and was able to freely run her mouth with anything that comes to her head.

 

\-  “ I had it for a while with Clint, we were so good together on and off the field. I was happy and he was happy. But after his run in with Loki, it was hard for us. He got nightmares of hurting me, was afraid that he was not in control. And I made a mistake then. I decidedly that he would be better of with somebody who he did didn’t need to be afraid of hurting, that I was the one who was causing his problems and not PTSD. I pushed him away, made him think that I didn’t want him anymore. Because I couldn’t trust myself with being there to help him work through it. I wasn’t worth it in my mind.”

 

\- “That must have been a hard decision”

 

\- “In retrospect yes, it was. But back then I didn’t give a shit about myself and my priorities was always to keep him safe. And he wasn’t safe being terrified and hating himself all the time”

 

The memories of their fall out flashing behind her eyes. How she threw herself in the endless strings of missions, avoiding him like the plague.

 

\- “Also I knew that we couldn’t make it together in a long term. I was not a person he could have everything he wanted with, and I didn’t want to stand in his way”

 

\-  “And what did he wanted?”

 

\- “Clint always had a love for children. I couldn’t deny him from having that joy in his life”

 

She remembers all the missions that they ended up saving kids from bad situations and him playing with them, trying to distract them. And her distancing herself from the scene, because it made her heart pain, and she didn’t want to examine the underlying reasons behind it.

 

\- “Did he tell you that he wanted it or you just decided on it yourself? Because in your words there I’m hearing a lot of Me and I, And not a lot of He.”

 

Natasha chuckles.

 

\- “ I was always a smart girl. He didn’t need to tell me in words.”

 

\-  “So you created a reality that you were comfortable with your self hatred on the forefront of it, searing your action in a way that would make you suffer more, and bring your perception of wants to people around you. Are you happy with what came out of it?”

 

The Voice usually spoke with the AI calmness, but with this topic it’s words felt like a full body blows to her.

 

\- “ I caused him too much pain, but at least now he can be free of me”

 

She could have sworn that the Voice laughted.

 

\- “Is he free from you now? Or suffering to have seen you go out like that? Very similar to the way he was fearing that it was gonna happen all along. The same fear that was the reason for you split in the first place”

 

Natasha felt out of place, stressed, couldn't sit calm anymore. Felt the edges of panic attack coming up.

 

\-  ” I bring suffering to everything I come close to. I ama weed, that grows and covers all the fertile land with my poison, pushing everything nice and fruitful out”

 

Natasha feels herself falling into a rhetoric she really worked hard to undo, those lessons were near impossible to unlearn, but she didn't find herself falling this deep for a long time now. Logically thinking is was because she opened up, got vulnerable and brought all this stuff up. She really worked way better, when she was able to shut her history down and just move on.

 

\- ”Well that very regressive, we were making good progress here” 

 

The Voice sounded disappointed.

 

Natasha rested her head on her knees and hugged her legs to her chest, trying to breath through the panic attack, holding on by her fingernails, to not completely let herself fall into abyss of her own head. She was focusing on doing the breathing exercises that Bruce taught her.

 

\- ”Do you need some time?” 

 

The Voice sounded concerned. Which was new, she noted at the back of her head.

 

\- ”Maybe I need to stop digging in my past and move on from the things I can't change. I am dead, remember?”

 

At that the Voice chuckled.

 

\- ”Who told you that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments would make me extremely happy:)

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear your thoughts :)


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